


baby bottles and lemon cotton

by she_who_hears



Series: teen dad au [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: FLUFF AND PHYSICAL AFFECTION, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Team as Family, dick has a super long panic attack ahsjdj poor bab, dick shaking bruce waynes shoulders violently: how did you do it, neither dick nor damian are white, teen dad dick grayson, teen parenthood is hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2020-04-12 08:38:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19128466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/she_who_hears/pseuds/she_who_hears
Summary: How can a child be expected to raise another child?





	baby bottles and lemon cotton

**Author's Note:**

> au where dick is damian’s dad!!! dick is around 17-18 ish??? and no dick and talia did NOT sleep together ew but ill get into how dames came to be in the next installment ;) i tried really hard to write in the perspective of someone having a panic attack oof

It’s obvious he was nervous.

Dick furrowed his eyebrows while hovering at Wally’s elbow, eyes bare after pretending their team  _ wasn’t  _ a family and he was right to protect his identity.

His eyes trailed past Wally’s arms, to the little bundle cradled lovingly. Damian’s tiny fists blearily rubbed at his eyes, the baby desiring warmth and familiarity and lemon cotton and  _ Baba _ .

Oh yes, it was quite obvious he was nervous, from the way the kid’s slim fingers twitched and flexed to his gentle reminders.

“S—support his head,” Dick advised, popping up from under his best friend’s (and godfather of his child’s) shoulder. He bit his lip and internally threw a tantrum because his baby wasn’t in his arms right now.

No little head on his chest, soft brown skin and cold nose.

“He’s still a bit young, Walls.”

Wally smiled at Damian. Jesus, he looked so much like Dick. His skin was a few shades darker than Dick’s own olive skin, fuzzy black hair and brown-ish eyes that held a bit more green to them. But it was no denying the resemblance of that scrunched up face and the scared boy in front of him.

“Hand him over,” M’gann whispered, her horde of younger siblings on Mars making her an experienced babysitter. Damian was gently moved from Wally to her, his tiny socked feet kicking when realizing it  _ still wasn’t Baba _ .

M’gann smiled. “Hi, baby,” she crooned, twirling the short strands on his head. “Auntie Megan is here.” Kaldur walked up slowly, taking one webbed hand and gently booping the tiny nose. 

Damian started, and would’ve cried if he hadn’t seen the webbing on his hand. Entranced, he reached out a hand and softly began tracing the webbing, for he was a very smart baby, and he knew that because Baba told him that every day.

The tracing turned into Damian grasping Kaldur’s thumb. Kaldur gasped slightly. “He’s the most beautiful baby in the world,” he breathed, kissing Damian’s hand.

Damian let out a cry, and Dick rushed to his side, ignoring the slight disappointment from Kaldur, Artemis, and Conner at not having a chance to hold the baby. The only people Damian was truly comfortable around was Alfred, Bruce, Dick’s brothers and sisters, and of course, Dick himself.

He easily maneuvered Damian from M’gann’s arms. “ _ Shhh, my love, Baba’s here, Baba’s here.” _ The language he was speaking in was neither English or Arabic, but Romani instead. He hoped Damian wouldn’t be too confused in learning three languages, but Dick knew like twelve and was fine. 

Ish.

Damian calmed down immediately, comforted in his father’s old red hoodie that used to be Bruce’s, back in the day of mullets and rock bands and other old people stuff. His watery eyes looked up.

 

_ I’m sorry. Please don’t leave me again. I’m sorry. I love you. Do you love me? Do you hate me? Don’t leave. I love you. I love you. I love you. _

 

Dick could have cried. Why did he bring Damian here? Damian hadn’t even hit a year old yet, and had separation anxiety that rivaled a newly-orphaned Dick’s to Bruce. He pressed his head to Damian’s, who curled up under his father’s neck, seeking comfort that only he could give. Dick slightly rocked back and forth.

 

_ No, baby, I’m sorry. I won’t leave you again. I’m sorry. I love you. I’ll never stop loving you. I could never hate you, my love. I won’t leave you. I love you. I love you. I love you. _

 

Damian rested his head on Dick’s shoulders, looking straight at him. Straight through him. A strange vulnerability awashed over Dick. 

He wasn’t Dickie, the poor orphan boy, and oh did you see that video, the line just snapped right off, didn’t it?

He wasn’t Richard, the precocious rich boy, and adopted by Brucie Wayne, yes he was, and oh, he’s just gypsy trash, probably won’t last a week, and yes he’s getting straight A’s I hear, glad he finally got rid of that accent.

He wasn’t Robin, the Boy Wonder, the fearless hero, the sunshine and smiles, the dark to Batman’s light, yes he can look at eyeless corpses and bloody grins and be fine, because heroes never, ever, ever fall.

He wasn’t Nightwing, the grown bird, the one everyone depends on, the calm and competent leader who never makes mistakes, because then he wouldn’t be Nightwing.

He wasn’t Dick, the son, the little brother of the team and the big brother of Jay and Timmy and Cassie and everyone else, the happy one, the nice one, the kind one, the okay one.

He was Dick Grayson. Totally in out of his head, Dick Grayson. Totally father of one, Dick Grayson. Totally late night crying seshs and stained sweatshirts with milk and puke and  _ Damian please go to please I’m so tired  _ Dick Grayson _. _

He needs an appointment with Dinah. And a dad talk with Bruce, who was equally unprepared for a sad baby. And a hug with Wally, and Dick says hug loosely, because by hug he means crawling into Wally’s lap and contorting his body into as small it can be while Bruce and Artemis and Conner and Megan and Kal and Roy all hover over him and pet his hair and tell him everything’s alright.

But, says the narrator, laughing maniacally to herself and the spider on the wall that had moved and oh god where was it. Everything was not alright.

Damian was so small. He sneezed.

 

And that’s what broke the fucking dam.

 

Because Dick’s son sneezed, and Dick needs to wipe his nose. He needs to wipe his nose. His nose is tiny and snotty and Dick needs to take care of him. Nobody else will take of him, and  Dick’s going to wiping a lot of snotty noses from now on. Dick doesn’t wipe Damian’s nose. 

He bursts into tears instead.

“Woah, what the fuck?” Wally asks, already walking closer. He’s one of the earliest members of the large-membered Dick Grayson Protection Squad (including him, Bruce, Alfred, the batfam, the League, Deathstroke somehow, and he’d say God if God hadn’t beat Dick Grayson up with a stick, and then beat him up again for good measure.)

Dick sniffed, nearly crushing Damian to his side. He felt pathetic and sad, like when he would he would stand by Bruce’s bed when he was little. He wanted love but was scared of what would come with it.

“I,” he began, still through tears. “I need to wipe Damian’s nose.”

“Okay,” Artemis says calmly, but kindly. She started running his fingers through his thick dark hair.  _ You’re not alone, so don’t push us away. We love you. _

Conner was already holding a Kleenex, and to Dick’s surprise, started wiping his tears instead. “You look weird crying,” he explained, but everyone knew that wasn’t the reason.  _ Please don’t cry. It’s okay, we love you. _

Dick sniffed, and took a Kleenex. Placing it under Damian’s nose, he wiped his nose. Damian didn’t say anything, and returned to Dick’s neck. His safety space. Fuck, Damian was going to die and it was all gonna be Dick’s fault. He was just a baby, and he was going to die. And Dick isn’t ready for another family member’s ( _ laughter laughter and the bird falls down)  _ death.

He’s not ready. He’ll never be ready, but Death seemed to cling around his throat anyway and wrap her cold fingers around his jaw so that he sees, and sees, and sees her dancing. He always sees, never does. Over and over and over and

 

O

 

V

 

E

 

R

 

again.

 

The blood was rushing through his ears, Damian’s sweet smell of powder and milk invading his nostrils. He’ll need to feed him later, too, because of useless boy nipples.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he shivers, as if he’s unearthed an unholy secret of sweat-slicked skin and swords, ironed from steel and blood, instead of an unsure teenage boy worried over his fragile child.

“We know,” Wally answers coolly. “But that’s okay.” Dick raised his head.

“Dick, we’re a family,” he explains. “Even through the team’s fights and fuckups and shitty communication skills, we’ve ended up alright. You and Damian will be, too.”

“I know,” Dick sobs dryly. “I know, but my heart doesn’t.”

Wally takes a step forward, but Dick interrupted him. “I know guys, I do. I love you all and my dad and my siblings and my baby, but I’m so tired. I need to feed Damian. Please.” The last note trembled dangerously. His friends frowned, but left the room. Under normal circumstances they would march up and call Dick the fuck out of him, but the poor kid looked drained. Artemis held her finger up.

“Fine, Grayson, but no matter what we do, we’ll be here even if we have to force you out of your batty little heart.” And with that, they left.

Dick all but collapsed into the chair. He pushed his nose into Damian’s hair, trying to find comfort. He looked at the baby. “I feel like how you look. Small. Did Bruce feel like this? Mami or Tati? She was young when she had me, you know, 18 or 19. I used to think she was so big, but she was just a kid when she had me. That’s weird to think about. Your parents being young. Bruce was always an old man to me.” He was babbling, short, choppy sentences. The room stopped closing in on him for a little bit; it was only Dick and Damian and Dick was okay with that.

Damian blinked, barely understanding Baba’s talk, but wanting him to keep talking. In Damian’s eyes, Dick was his entire world. Who else would be? Parents are supposed to take care of their children, and Damian would never have to live in a world where that didn’t happen.

Dick sighed, and grabbed a bottle. “You cause me a lot of shit, you freeloader. But I still change your nappies and feed you every day, hm? And why is that?” He teased, slightly ticking the baby’s chin. Damian was both the cause of his suffering and his joy. But if he was a Grayson, then of course he would dedicate his life to tormenting his parental figures with his loud voice and adorable face. T’was The Way.

Damian attempted to grab the bottle. His baby hands were tiny and useless, but that didn’t stop him. Eventually he gave up and looked at Dick. Dick kissed the precious little head, lips lingering.

“I’ve always been a lover,” Dick confessed quietly into his head as he prepared the bottle. “I’m not sunshine and rainbows, seeing your parents fall to death kinda does that to you. But I’ve always thought that a little TLC can go a long way. One time, Jason didn’t talk to me for four whole days and then burst into tears when I hugged him. Isn’t that what we all need, once in a while? A hug? Some love? Some rosiness?”

Dick wouldn’t let Damian grow up in a world where he was denied hugs. He would never know the loneliness of sleeping in a too big bed, or the frost of a window after banging bruised fists on  _ because you must feel something. _

No child’s indent on a King’s bed and shivering snowflakes burnt on a car window. Warm milk bottles at night and willow wisp singing instead.

“Maybe the Beatles were right,” he mused. “Maybe love is all you need.”

Damian latched onto the bottle, little fingers flexing, big eyes never leaving Dick’s.

“I love you, Damian,” he said fiercely, eyes soft and unwavering. “I have always loved you, and I’ll never stop. I want that to be enough. I really, really do.”

Dick was a teenage, vigilante, big brother to a brood of bats and a father of a single bird. A baby bird, who had his face and his smile and none of his demons, because Dick would curl around Damian and kiss his forehead and bare his teeth whenever one would show up.  _ We’re in this together, baby, you and me. _

Dick Grayson doesn’t think he was meant to be a father, but he knows he was meant to be Damian’s.

**Author's Note:**

> PLS COMMENT I LOV COMMENTS also in this au jason is ALIVE and HAPPY so do not fret also he and tim and duke r the best uncles in the world and damian is so loved


End file.
